


If I Come Home for Christmas, Will You be Only in My Dreams?

by NightmareSparklePony



Series: Ghosts of Christmas' Past [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Black Panther (2018) Spoilers, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Black Panther (2018), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-27 13:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareSparklePony/pseuds/NightmareSparklePony
Summary: Steve's plan was to actually be happy at Christmas. Since Bucky has decided it was for the best to literally put himself on ice, he doesn't need to worry about him this year. No. Steve's not at all bitter. This year he's going to celebrate the Holidays with Clint's family, Natasha, Sam, Sam's Mom, and her famous pecan pie.Natasha has a different idea.





	1. Better than Pecan Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Black Panther. Seriously, I just wanted to just write "insert Black Panther here and then just imagine how freaked out Steve would be".

**2016**

“Come on, Steve, we both know you're going,” Nat says as she stows her gear.

I sigh. "We've gone over this a hundred times," I reply as I pull down my pack containing the presents I'd gotten for Clint's kids. "What's the point if all I can do is watch him behind the glass...frozen...lifeless." That's what got to me the most. Even Shuri's assurances didn't make it any less unsettling.  

“The point is,” Sam says as he comes up the ramp and grabs my pack out of my hands. “We don't want your mopey ass ruining our good time.”

“Steve, it true. Your mopey ass will bring us all down,” Nat says as she hands me her pack. “You'll be thinking about him the whole time whether you are here or not.”

“I'm not that mopey,” I reply. Shuri did say she thought Bucky knew when I was there but I figured she was just trying to make me feel useful. But maybe it was true. She did show me his brain waves to prove that he was still alive and at peace. “See that wave right there,” she had said, pointing at a blue line flowing across the screen. “That shows he's dreaming, maybe even about you,” she teased.  
“Come on, Nat,” Sam calls from the bottom of the ramp. “Clint's already eaten one of my mama's pecan pies and he's got a bead on the back-up.”

“Coming!” She yells. “Steve, go on. You know that's where you belong. He's your family.”

“So are you. And Sam. And even Clint,” I say as I start to hand her pack to her.

She pushes it back into my hands. “This is for you. And there's something in there for Shuri and T'Challah too.”

“I'm pretty sure they don't celebrate Christmas in Wakanda, Nat.”

“But it's always nice to be a good guest. Just no peaking until this evening.” She kisses me on the cheek and says, “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

I give her a hug. “Merry Christmas, Nat.” As she walks down the ramp I say, “Meeting the Mother. Wow, that's a big step!”

She sticks out her tongue, but I can see the pink in her cheeks as the door to the aircraft closes. Once in the jump-seat I lift the aircraft from the ground. When I fly low over the farmhouse and dip the wings, Nat, Sam, his mom, Clint and two of his kids wave at me as I depart. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I should stay with people who actually could appreciate my company, even if I were a little melancholy over the Holidays. Instead I turn on the stealth system and set a heading for Africa.

 *****

The flight takes a couple hours and I spent that time torturing myself by reading and re-reading the letter Bucky sent me last Christmas. “So much for that drink, huh Buck.”

Then I read the other letter. The letter I found on my bed after watching Bucky be put into cryo-freeze.

_**Steve,** _

_**I know you don't agree with what I'm doing and I'm sorry. Not for what I'm doing but that it makes you unhappy. You probably think I'm being selfish but I have to do what's best for me and what's best for everyone around me-including you.** _

_**Please know that this does not have anything to do with you. I'm not afraid of you or our relationship. I just can't stand the thought that I could hurt—no kill—people ever again and have no way to control it. No one has said anything but I know several people were killed when I escaped after I was triggered. I very nearly killed you. I am not safe for anyone to be around with these triggers floating around in my head. It's hard enough to live with all the blood already on my hands and I can't risk it anymore when I know there is a solution.** _

_**You don't need to wait for me. Get on with your life, already! Call that cute blonde and try to be happy.** _

_**Bucky** _

I was so pissed off at him, but also tried to make it OK for him too. Maybe I should have fought harder but when he told me, “It's this or the raft, Steve. I'm not putting anyone else in jeopardy,” I knew I'd lost the battle. At least he'd be where I could visit him and he would be safe.

That feeling of security lasted all of three weeks. First I got a call from Shuri letting me know they were moving him to a more secure location because Agent Ross was being brought to the lab so Shuri could treat his injuries. I guess when T'Challah said he was going to bring Wakanda out into the world he wasn't kidding. Next we heard rumors that T'Challah was dead and his cousin had claimed the throne to become the New Black Panther. Events were spiraling out of control so fast that by the time Nat, Sam, and I could extricate ourselves from our mission in the Arctic and return to Wakanda the fighting was over and T'Challah had returned from the grave to reclaim the throne.

Bucky had never been in any danger or so I was told by Shuri and Okoyo. He had been well hidden and Killmonger had never been near his location but it was enough that it was a month before I was able to leave his side again. He was always the same. Shuri said she had developed a way to help him, but first she had to map his brain.

The last time I had visited him was on my birthday. The realization hit me that I was lonely and that the vigil I was keeping may, in the end, be futile. Shuri went on and on about the progress they were making by isolating the triggers in Bucky's mind but it was a very slow process. There were times when he seemed to fight them by shutting down and hiding within his own mind. I felt as if I was the only one fighting for us and wondered if Bucky was right. Maybe I should try to find happiness with someone else.

The next day I called Sharon to ask her to meet me for that coffee I'd suggested years ago. “Steve, sorry,” she had said politely. “But that ship has sailed. What happened in Germany-you can't tell me that wasn't a kiss goodbye.” Natasha tried set me up with other ladies and even a few guys but I always found an excuse not to keep a date.

*****

Upon arrival at the palace, I immediately go to the lab to visit Bucky rather than showering in my quarters as I usually did. When did visiting Bucky become a chore merely to be done and over with? I hate that it feels like that.

The secret lab is empty when I arrive. Bucky's chamber is empty! My mind races with scenarios, none of which are good. Did the CIA find him and whisk him away to the raft? Did Tony figure out how to get to him and finish the job he started in Siberia? Did all the support systems fail? Is Bucky dead?

“Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead,” I chant under my breath as I run through the hallways to Shuri's main lab. When I enter I stop short when I see him there. Not dead. Lying in a hospital bed with a mountain of blankets piled on top of him and his heart beat reporting steadily on the monitors, Bucky is the most beautiful sight I've seen since finding him in Azzano.

“Steve!” Shuri exclaims. “Thought that would get you up here.”

“Wha...What?” I asked, confused.

“Oh, You didn't see the note?” She turns to examine the reading on the monitor.

“No. I came right to the lab when I got here.” I approach the side of the bed. “When I saw he wasn't there I...”

“You panicked,” Shuri said with a laugh. “Bucky told me you were always a drama queen.”

“A drama queen?” I was confused. “Wha....What exactly is going on here?”

“Oh this?” Shuri waves here hand around the room. “This is us defrosting Bucky. Well it's a lot more technical than that but essentially we are defrosting him...slowly like a nice roast...not in the microwave like Hydra.”

I stand over the bed and peer down at Bucky. “So he's fixed? The triggers are gone.”

“Not completely, Steve,” Shuri explained as she turned to me. “Most of them. We've gotten as far as we can without his co-operation.”

“Why now?” I ask as I stroke his cheek. I can't resist. He is still cool but definitely not frozen. I can feel his warmth beneath the surface.

“Well, I heard this night is special for you two. Christmas Eve.”

“Who told you that? Natasha?”

Shuri nods towards Bucky and says, “No. He did.”

“Oh?” I respond, dumbly. When did Bucky have so much time to talk with Shuri?

“His core temperature is almost back to normal, but we need to warm his extremities gradually. It's quite painful if it's done too suddenly.” I can't help but think of Bucky's treatment from Hydra. Nothing was gradual about the methods they'd used to take him out of cryo-freeze. Like Shuri said-it was as if they microwaved him.

She continues, “He is sedated so he won't be in any pain. It will help if he can awaken in a less technical environment.”

“Huh?” Is my response. I am so stunned by what is happening, that I'm getting exactly what I was hoping to receive for Christmas, I can't form complete sentences.

“I want to move him back to his quarters,” she said slowly, as if she was trying to communicate with someone who did not understand a language. “To your quarters.”

“Wha....What?” I still wasn't forming complete sentences.

“That's Ok, isn't it? That we move him into the spare bedroom in your quarters. The one he used when you first arrived.”

“Yeah......Sure....” Bucky was back. Hopefully by the time he woke up I would be able to form complete sentences.


	2. It's Always Coldest at Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve hadn't planned on visiting Bucky this Christmas. Natasha convinced him that he should go rather than letting his "mopey ass" ruin everyone's Christmas spirit.
> 
> When Steve arrives in Wakanda, he discovers Bucky as been moved from his chamber. He panics because he is a drama queen but soon discovers that Shuri is bringing Bucky back to consciousness.
> 
> Natasha is pretty sneaky, isn't she?
> 
> Now Steve gets to watch Bucky while he sleeps. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.

Shuri convinces me to go ahead of them to my apartment so I can get cleaned up and make sure Bucky's bedroom is ready for him. There is not much to do. The linens have been changed but everything else remains just as Bucky left them. I see that his backpack, the one that contains his journals, is in the chair by the window. I smile as I remember the heist Nat and I pulled in order to retrieve them.

It isn't long before the door opens and Shuri, with several assistants, pushes Bucky in on a gurney. His cheeks are getting a touch to pink to the them as his temperature increases. My breath catches in my throat. He is so beautiful. How did I forget how beautiful he is?

“There we go,” she says as he is settled into the bed then pulls the covers up to his chin. “Nice and comfy.” More blankets are piled on top.

“What now?” I ask as I pull a chair up to the bed. I want to sit on the bed, Hell I want to climb in the bed and wrap Bucky up in my arms.

“He's still sedated,” Shuri replies. “But he should be conscious fairly soon if his metabolism is anything like yours. He may start to shiver as he becomes more aware and will feel the cold. Unfortunately we can't do anything do avoid that.”

“Will it hurt?”

“A little. It will be like when your hands get too cold...but not frostbitten...then they get warm and tingly until they warm up.”

“What can I do to help him?”

“Talk to him,” She says, seriously. “He'll need to get his bearings and it's important that he knows he is safe.”

“What if he starts shivering too hard?” I ask, remembering the videos taken of the Winter Soldier during the thawing process. He shook so hard his muscles cramped and he would scream in agony. “Do you need to give him something for that...a muscle relaxer?”

“It not likely to be that bad, Steve, because we warmed him slowly. But if you want to help him, the best way to warm someone up is shared body heat,” She says with a devilish grin.

I can feel myself blushing. “Would that be OK?”

“It could help. Instead of waking up alone in a lab, waking up in the arms of someone he cares for may help him remember a pleasant experience instead of one of his many awful ones.”

“OK. Thanks, Shuri,” I say as she walks out the door.

“Just be sure to let me know when he's awake. There are some tests I've designed that need to be done as soon as possible.”

After she's out of the door, I hesitate. Would Bucky want this, even if it was to help him feel more comfortable? Every time I've touch him since our reunion in Romania, he's flinched and held himself as if frozen. Even a friendly grasp on the shoulder seemed to be too much for him. The last time I've had him in my arms was during our escape from Siberia when he was injured in the fight with Tony.

A shutter runs through Bucky's body and he lets out a low moan. That settles it for me. Even if I don't touch him, the heat radiating from my body should help warm the air trapped beneath the blanket. I lift up the blanket and settle in the bed next to, but not quite touching, Bucky.

“It's OK, Buck.” I whisper. “It's just me.”

Back when were together in Brooklyn, Bucky often went to bed before me because he was worn out from a tough day of manual labor while I liked to stay up to read or sketch. Hopefully, this would put that memory into Bucky's mind. Of course back then he'd roll towards me and wrap me in his arms as soon as he felt me get into bed. No, this reminds me of another night. Another Christmas Eve.

“Buck. Hey, do you remember that Christmas we spent in the Alps?” Suddenly I stop. Maybe that's not such a good memory for Bucky. It was his last Christmas before he fell from the train.

“I remember how cold and crisp the air was...and fresh,” I say, remembering. We all felt it. The momentum we were carrying as we headed into the New Year. There was only one more Hydra base left to expose and we had caught a break by obtaining the travel plans of Armin Zola. If only that intel had never fallen into our laps.

“We'd gotten word from base that a cease fire had been called from sundown Christmas Eve until sunrise on the day after Christmas”. The guys were excited. There were plans to darn socks, get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time, and Falsworth even made a schedule allowing us to heat water so we could all get some sort of a bath and a good shave.

“Of course you weren't buying it. I remember when you left camp to go on watch that evening.”

“ _ **You sure the Germans are going to honor the truce, Steve?” I say as I tug on my boots, noticing that my big toe has finally worn through the sock. “What about Hydra? Don't suppose you got word from them they were agreeing to a truce?”**_

“ _ **The nearest unit gave their word under penalty of honor,” he replies. “And Hydra's on the run. All of them have disappeared-gone back to Schmidt I expect.” All I can do is shake my head.**_

“ _ **I'll see you in the morning, Stevie.” I hear you sigh, exasperated with me again. Don't think I don't notice that. Your frustration that I'm not the same old Bucky I used to be is evident every time I don't laugh and have fun like the rest of the Commandos.**_

“An hour before sunset, it began to snow so heavily that the tree-line was obscured. Even without a truce any military action was unlikely in those conditions,” I say to the form lying beside me. Bucky's breathing is deep and steady. He seems to be peacefully sleeping now, though he appears to be dreaming. Often I wondered if he dreamt in cryo-freeze and if so, were his dreams pleasant?

_**It starts to snow about an hour into my watch. The tree where I'm posted shelters me from most of the snow, but a big dollop falls from the branches above and goes down the back of my coat when I stand up to get my blood flowing. My toes are numb and hurt when I wiggle them in my boots. The temperature drops drastically once the sun goes down but I allow it to seep into me and become one with it. That's the trick I've found that allows me to stay out on watch all night during even the coldest nights. I just need to be sure to keep my hands warm.** _

“I couldn't believe you didn't come in with all that snow coming down. Figured it must have been uncomfortable as Hell out in those trees.” Damn. I should have know something had happen that allowed Bucky to withstand the conditions when he stood watch. Anyone else would have suffered frostbite to his toes and face if they spent that much time out in the cold. “We figured out that we could warm the large command tent with hot water we had boiled over the fire—I'm really amazed by the way, that you didn't yell at us to put that fire out when it got dark—and we heated some rocks to warm our beds.”

“ _ **Fuck,” I whisper to myself when I see the fire still lit. “Are these idiots trying to get killed?” Then they all go into the tent which still has lanterns burning silhouetting each figure. I raise my rifle and look through the scope. The snow magnified through the lens is disorienting but I find my targets. Falsworth and Dernier are toasting with glasses of wine or something. The Brit most likely planned we'd be spending Christmas in camp and brought it for the occasion. Dum Dum, Jones, and Morita are playing cards and look to be drinking something stronger. They'd get a surprise if I shot the cigar out of Dugan's mouth. Might teach them a lesson for making themselves such easy targets. Then there was Steve, sitting alone in the corner with a sketch book in his hand.**_  

“For once we had a decent, warm meal. Falsworth planned it especially for us. Not that you would know it. Still can't believe you'd turn down a hot meal to stay up in that tree.”

_**An hour later, I see a figure approaching. It's Steve. I can tell by his stride that he's on a mission and more than a little pissed.** _

“ _ **I thought you'd have sense enough to come in from the cold, Buck,” he yells up at me. I would have been invisible to anyone else but his serum must have given him some sort of super vision. He always seemed to find my hiding places.**_

“ _ **Thanks for revealing my location, Rogers,” I say quietly.**_

“ _ **To who, Buck?” He replies gesturing to the open meadow with his arms. “If there were anyone out there, don't you think they'd have shot me by now?”**_

_**It was true. He was an easy target. “Maybe they're waiting til midnight to catch us all off guard. Lull us into a sense of complacency.”** _

“ _ **That's just...just.stupid, Buck. There's nobody out there and you know it.”**_

“ _ **Who you calling stupid, punk? You just waltzed over here without cover, completely exposed,” I say becoming annoyed with him.**_

“ _ **Come on, Sargent. Get out of the tree and come in for some dinner,” he says with a hint of authority to it.**_

“ _ **Is that an order, Captain?” If it was, there was no way I would refuse. I was a good soldier and would never disobey a direct order from an officer.**_

“ _ **Buck? No,” he replies. “It's not an order. Just please...please come down and join the celebration.”**_

_**Despite myself I breath a sign of relief. There would be little left of our friendship if Steve starts using his authority to boss me around for personal reasons.** _

“ _ **I'll be down in the morning,” I say. “When my shift's over. Tell Dernier to not be late.”**_

_**Steve turns his back on me and stalks back to camp.** _

“You always kidded me about being stubborn but where do you think I learned that from, you big jerk. What were you trying to prove staying up in that tree all night?”

I remember how mad I was when I came back to camp. I snapped at the others, “Come on, men. Let's get some shut eye.” All the frivolity came to an end and one by one the others kicked off their boots and settled into the blankets on the ground.

“Where's Sarge, Cap?” Dum Dum asked. “Thought you were going to drag his scrawny ass back for some grub.”

“He has watch until sunrise,” I replied sharply.

“Bloody Hell,” Falsworth suddenly exclaimed. “If you can't control your men, I'll guess I'll have to, Captain!” The Major then rushed out of the tent and marched toward the tree line.

_**I admit I'm a little nervous when I see Falsworth approaching. “Sargent Barnes,” he shouts as he nears my position. If I remain quiet he wouldn't be able to locate my position but my training made ignoring the demands of an officer impossible.** _

“ _ **Yes. Major. Sir,” I reply as I reveal my position.**_

“ _ **Sargent Barnes, get your ass out of that tree and back to camp!” He barks then turns on his heel and starts to camp. I don't need to ask if that's an order.**_

“ _ **Yes, Sir.” I climb from my position and follow him.**_

“I couldn't believe it when Falsworth came back with you straggling behind him. Actually, I can. Monty gave me free rein to plan and execute our plans to extinguish Hydra, but we both knew who was really the commanding officer,” I say. Bucky makes a grimace then rolls over so his nose is pressed to the side of my shoulder. Carefully I lift my arm to settle it around his shoulder which causes his nose to be buried into my arm pit. “Good thing I showered, huh Buck?”

_**They all turn to look at me when I walk into the tent behind Major Falsworth. It is warm in there and they're all lined up on the ground together.** _

“ _ **Come on, Sarge. Let's get that wet coat off you,” Dum Dum says as he starts to peel the blue coat from my shoulders.**_

“ _ **No!” I say as I hug it close to me. They are all still staring at me. It occurs to me that they all know what happened to me. They know I'm week. That's why Falsworth made me come back. Maybe they got bored and figured I'd be their entertainment for the evening. They know what a whore I am so what the Hell, right?**_

“ _ **Hey, Buck,” Steve says in a low voice beside me.**_

“ _ **Steve?” That's right. Steve is here.**_

“ _ **Come on, Buck. Sit right here and I'll get you some soup.” He leads me to the stool in the corner of the tent. The rest of the Commandos return to their beds. It's starting to get cold as the boiling water has cooled. I take off my gloves then Steve hands me a cup of broth.**_

“ _ **There's some mutton. It's cold but it'll fill you up,” he says as he hands me some bread.**_

_**I shake my head and say, “No. This is good.” The chill leaves my body as the warmth from the soup spreads from my belly.** _

I was happy to see Bucky come in from the cold but embarrassed that Major Falsworth had to pull rank to accomplish the feat. When he was finished eating, Bucky kicked off his shoes and looked around the room as if he were looking for a place to hide.

“I'm sorry I didn't recognize the fear in your eyes, Baby.” I had thought he was just being stubborn and petty about being ordered into the tent when he looked over the group of men then went to sleep in the corner away from the group.

“ _ **Come here, Buck,” Steve whispers then nods toward the spot between himself and Morita. “Get in.”**_

_**All I can do is shake my head. I can't. There's so many of them.** _

“ _ **It's OK, Buck. Just lay down here by me. It'll be just like when we put down the couch cushions and you'd sleep besides my bed.” Steve pats the spot on the end next to him.**_

_**Slowly, I take off the damp coat and lay it on the stool. I make sure we aren't touching when I lay down beside him. He's so warm and it would be easy for me to wrap myself around him just to soak it in.** _

“I thought you were afraid of the men finding out we had been lovers. It never occurred to me that you might be frightened to be around these men because of what had happened in Azzano. They'd never hurt you. In fact they were always doing little things to help you,” I whisper, remembering how Jones and Morita took turns mending Bucky's clothing while he rested and Dum Dum always saved coffee for him whenever he was on night watch. “Those guys loved you like a brother.”

_**Can't believe I slept so late. The sun is high in the sky and considering it's winter, it must be past eight. I hear the crackling of the fire and muffled voices outside the tent. I realize that my head is pillowed on Steve's chest and I sit up startled.** _

_**Steve laughs. “Don't worry about it, Buck. You should have seen the position Morita and Jones were in this morning.”** _

_**He looks around the tent to make sure no one is lingering nearby then whispers in my ear causing a shiver of excitement run down my spine, “Merry Christmas, Baby.”** _

“ _ **Merry Christmas, Steve,” I reply pulling away..**_

“Now where are my chocolates, Punk,” Bucky says suddenly.

When I look down at him his eyes are on me. He's awake. “Sorry pal,” I start. “No wait.”

Reluctantly I get out of bed and retrieve my backpack. Looking inside I find a box of chocolates from Switzerland. “Natasha you little sneak.” Of course she was in on it. Shuri must have told her she would awaken Bucky soon and Nat must have suggested Christmas as the time to do it.

Bucky's curled up on his side when I come back to bed but lifts himself up to place his head on my shoulder when I climb back under the covers. I place one of the chocolates to his lips and he takes a bite then swirls it in mouth. “What time is it, Steve?”

I look at the clock on the bedside table. “Five to midnight.”

“Close enough,” He says. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.” Then he gives me a kiss just long enough for me to taste the candy on his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Baby,” I reply, smiling as I settle us down into the bed.

“Make sure to wake me at four,” Bucky mumbles. “Mom said we're going to mass at five this year.”

Bucky seems to be remembering a different Christmas, but it really doesn't matter. He's alive, awake and warm in my arms. Shuri and her tests can wait. For now I'm going to celebrate the miracle of Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure Shuri "sees" many of Bucky's thoughts while she's poking around trying to defuse his triggers. That's why she knows Christmas Eve is special for Steve and Bucky and why she thinks its fine for Steve to warm Bucky with his body heat.


	3. Shared Life Experience, Not always What it's Cracked Up to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri had promised Bucky that she would leave him in cryo-freeze until his triggers were removed. Then why does Bucky find himself awake 7 months later with triggers remaining in his subconscious? He is pretty sure the reason is Steve and Bucky's none too happy about it.

I wake to the sound of movement in the other room and the smell of bacon. Silently, I get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom to relieve myself. Half way across the room my head starts to swim. I have time to get a “Fuck” out as I grab for the door-way to steady myself and miss because my left arm doesn't react.

“Bucky,” I hear Steve shout as I roll over on my back. “Are you alright?” he asks as squats down beside me.

It's then, as he's on my left side, that I realize my arm is missing. I take a deep breath and nod. Memories are scrambled together in my mind, but I vaguely recall being told by a young, African, girl that this was likely to occur. Maybe it was a crazy dream.

“Buck? Buck?” Steve repeats. His voice sounds scared. Flashes of a train, the feeling of falling overwhelms me.

“грузовой вагоn,”I whisper as I take a deep breath. I isolate the feeling within myself. Fear. I survived the fall so there is no longer a reason to feel that fear. In my mind I let go of the fear and watch it drift down into the canyon separate from myself. The freight car had as much to do with what happened to me as the snow or the wind or the rocks or the trees. The word no longer has any power over me.

When I open my eyes I see the concern on Steve's face. He's looks different now. His hair is longer and he's sporting a full beard. This is what makes me realize I'm not dreaming. Steve never has a beard in my dreams. It never occurred to me he could even grow one since he never was able to when we were back in Brooklyn. It looks good on him.

“Hey,” I say as I lift my hand to touch his face.

“Hey, yourself,” he replies with a smile. “You OK? Answer me in English this time, Buck.”

There is a strange feeling gurgling in my chest. I'd felt it once before. A long time ago, during the war when we had Hydra on it's heels. Hope. Shuri's crazy plan had worked. My triggers were gone and they had removed me from the cryo-chamber.

“I'm good,” I say, smiling. “Do I smell bacon?

After I shower and dress, Steve leads me to the small dining room in the center of the common area. He's been busy this morning. There is a plate of bacon and stacks of pancakes. Sadly there are no Lucky Charms.

Vaguely I remember something from last night—a memory of Steve talking to me and dreams about the Commando's last Christmas in '44. That was my last Christmas before...before the freight car.

The snow had stopped during the night and the day was sunny and crisp. The Howlies spent the day boiling water and we each took our turn standing in the tub of hot water and washing grime from our bodies. I remember balking at the idea of being naked in front of anyone, especially Steve,..thought for sure he would be able to see what had happened to me written on my body.

“Oh, No,” Dugan said. “We're not going to spend the next few days smelling your stench, Barnes. What's the point of any of us taking a bath then.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve said ernestly. “You'll feel so much better afterwards.”

Dum Dum must has seen my retinence around Steve so he came up with the plan for the Commandos to surround the tub, with their backs turned, while I bathed. Afterwards we all huddled in the tent, wrapped in blankets, while we washed our clothing in boiling water. Steve had gotten us all new socks for Christmas so at least our feet were warm. Dernier stretched a long line between trees, telling us that our clothes should be freeze dried by evening. I was skeptical but we all had clean, dry clothes by the time we turned in that night.

That evening we play cards, sang songs, took turns shaving each other and giving hair cuts where necessary. I remember the look in Steve's eye when he wiped the soap from my face then brushed the hair from my neck. “What?” I'd asked, thinking that perhaps he'd nicked me during the shave.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head “You look good, Buck. Too bad there's not a dance hall nearby. You'd break all the dames' hearts.”

That's when I felt it. The hope that we'd all make it through this terrible war and go back home. Steve and Peggy would get married, have kids and I'd be their Uncle Bucky.

“Buck, your food alright?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, Steve,” I respond, staring down at the mountain of food on my plate. “Just thinking.” I take a bit of pancakes smothered in syrup.

“Bout what?” Steve says with his mouth full.

“What day is it?” I was pretty sure I was right and it was Christmas. There was wrapping from a box of chocolates in the waste bin. Boy, my mom would freak out over that.

“December 25th. Christmas Day,” Steve replies, carefully.

“Yeah. But what year? How long have I been in cryo-stasis?” I ask, curious about the length of time it had taken to clear my triggers.

Steve looks down nervously and says, “I need to call Shuri. Let her know you're awake.”

“What year, Steve?” I say blocking his path.

He looks down, takes a big breath and says, “2016.”

I'm stunned. I know it took over forty years for Hydra to install them so clearing those triggers within a few months was impossible. “What the fuck, Steve,” I say in a low voice. “You've always been a selfish son of a bitch but, really, what the fuck. How could you go behind my back like this?”

“Buck. Buck, I swear it wasn't me. I didn't tell them to do it. Shuri said...”

“Shuri was just doing what she thought you wanted. Probably has a God-damned teen-aged crush on Captain America.”

“I assure you I don't have a crush, teen-aged or otherwise, on Captain America,” Shuri says as she walks in the room. “But I do find Dr. Banner rather dreamy. Steve, weren't you suppose to inform me when James had regained consciousness?”'

“Yeah, but....” Good. He had an expression like he'd been caught misbehaving by the teacher.

“See what happens when you don't follow instructions,” She says glaring at Steve. “How are you feeling Sargent Barnes?”

“Fine. I just want to know what the fu...heck is going on. Why did you take me out of cryo-stasis?” I ask looking down on her. “Where you able to remove the triggers?” For a moment I felt a shred of hope that maybe the brilliant teen-age girl had worked a miracle.

Shuri takes a deep breath and says, “No.”

I punch the wall beside her head, wishing that I still had my metal arm when I feel the sting of the impact on my knuckles. “Bucky!” Steve shouts, alarmed. He's ready to step between us if necessary.

Shuri looks frightened as I glare down on her. I feel bad about that, but I hope it impresses upon her that the Winter Soldier should be taken seriously. “Sorry,” I say as I walk away. “But you told me you wouldn't awaken me until my triggers were gone.”

“No, Sargent Barnes,” the brave girl replies as she approaches. “I told you I would awaken you as soon as you were no longer a threat. Remember?”

Yes. I remembered that. My concern was that I would hurt people and she promised to keep me in stasis until I was no longer a threat. “Isn't the same thing though? I'm a time bomb waiting for the fuse to be lit until they're gone.”

“Yes,” she says taking me by the hand and leading me to the sofa. “It's exactly like a fuse. The bomb can't detonate if the fuse is cut anywhere along the way. That's what we've done.”

“Makes sense,” I say. “But there's a chance someone could light it along the way, as well.” Steve sits down in the chair across from us.

“I'm confident we've removed the first one, the one that has been there the longest,” She says.

“грузовойвагоn,” I say, calmly. “Freight car.” Steve flinches when he hears the word. Maybe he has some triggers of his own.

“Yes,” Shuri smiles. “You've worked through that one yourself, I see.”

“I don't understand,” Steve says. “Weren't the triggers removed when he was in stasis?”

“We removed much of the trauma inflicted by Hydra surrounding the trigger words by flooding the brain with dopamine as we stimulated that particular area of the brain. We did not however remove the memories themselves,” She explains.

“Why not?” Steve demanded. “Why not remove those memories of what they did to him?”

“Because then she would be no better than them, Steve. Hydra selected which of my memories to wipe and which ones they could use to their benefit,” I explained. “And I don't want to forget the things I did. I need to own my actions.”

“Plus most of the memories are from events that happened prior to his capture,” She says. “James, you are still going to need to work through these memories and the emotions tied to them.”

I hang my head. I thought this would fix everything. That I would finally be whole.

“Do you want to go through the list to see if anything has changed—if you remember anything more to help us? We should do it right away while it's fresh in your mind.”

“No,” Steve says. “He's not going to do that. You say he's no longer a threat. Then there's no need to poke around in his mind anymore.”

I'm shocked by his reaction. Why wouldn't he want me to remember and deal with my past? When I meet his eyes, I see the guilt in them. “Come on, Buck. Isn't it best to leave well enough alone? Get on with our lives.”

It occurs to me that Steve hasn't changed at all. He's still that stubborn, pushy, kid I defended all those years ago in that alley. He's also selfish and thinks he knows what's best for everyone else. “You're afraid of what I'll remember about you and our relationship,” I say with sudden realization.

“Steve does need to be involved with this,” Shuri said. “Many of the trigger words are tied to him.”

“One,” I say suddenly. In English and in the opposite order, just to stay on the safe side. “Steve is...was my one and only.” The shame washes over me as I remember the Hydra soldiers tearing at me and the pain of the first of many rapes I've endured. “He's not anymore.”

“Baby don't,” Steve pleads. “Don't put yourself through that.”

“Sshhh,” Shuri commands. “That's good James.”

Even knowing their intentions, I went with the Hydra soldiers willingly. I thought I was saving someone else—would never have gone easily otherwise. That's still rape, isn't it? Did it matter any way? After the fall and the surgery, rape became Hydra's first method of bringing out the Winter Soldier. “It's not my fault. What they did is on them. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else.”

“Yes,” Shuri says. “And what about the emotion?”

“Shame,” I whisper, trying to isolate the feeling only to have it slip away.

“Nothing to be ashamed of Buck,” Steve says in a strangled voice. “I should have never put that in your head in the first place. That you belonged to me.” One thing I can always count on from Steve is his belief that everything revolves around himself. If something bad happened, it was because he wasn't there to prevent it or he wasn't in control of the situation. “Come on, Shuri,” Steve interjects. “This isn't the time to do this. It's Christmas for crying out loud.”

“James?” Shuri says, letting me know that it is my decision to continue or not.

“Steve thinks there are better things to do on Christmas,” I say bitterly. “Not caroling, or skating, or spending time with friends and family. No, Steve likes to spend the day in bed.” Due to Shuri's presence I don't end that sentence with “fucking” as I had intended.

“Bucky, you have to know that's not what I want. Not now,” Steve says looking embarrassed. “Is that really what you really think of me?”

“желание,” I say. “Longing. When I think of Christmas—that's what comes to my mind. And it didn't start with some mission as the Winter Soldier, Steve. Every Christmas since I was sixteen was spent with you and our “tradition”. Except the last one with the Commandos.” Thank God, Steve didn't try anything that time. Instead of reviving my hope and spirit, I would have been destroyed.

“Buck, I thought you wanted to...that you enjoyed it,” Steve says softly.

I want to stop. I want to spare his feelings, but he needs to hear this. “I did,” I say with a lump in my throat. “Yeah. Most of the times I did. But I wanted to spend time with my family too, Steve.”

“You should have said something, Buck.”

Of course it was my fault. “You didn't have anyone after your Ma died and I didn't want you to be alone....but you could have come with me. You could have been part of my family.” I feel the wave of sadness roll over me. All the time I squandered. I should have spent more time with my family. I miss them all so much. I miss my mother's gentle smile—her acceptance even when I got into trouble, even when I cut short Sunday dinner to go back to Steve. I miss my sister's laugh even when I was the butt of one her practical jokes. I even miss my Dad. He did the best he could raising a family during the depression. He's the one who taught me to fight, to stand up for myself. He was so proud of me when he dropped me at the train station before I shipped out, but he still told me, “Keep your head down, son. Don't be a hero.” That's as close as a man like him comes to telling his son that he was loved and to wish him back home safely.

It isn't until Shuri softly says, “I think this might be enough for one day,” that I realize there are tears streaming down my face. “The plan was to start counseling after the New Year, but maybe you'd like to move that up a bit?”

“You can't just put me back in cryo?” I say as I wipe my eye on my sleeve. This is too much for me to handle. It never occurred to me that my memories of what happened before the War would be more painful than those during my time as the Winter Soldier.

“Sorry, No. I'll call you tomorrow to set up some times. Maybe some for couples counseling as well,” She says with a smile. She kisses me on the cheek before she leaves. “Merry Christmas, Sargent Barnes.”

“You know you don't have to do that,” I say, nervously. “Couples counseling. She's just kidding.” I had no allusions that Steve and I were a couple. After what I just said I half expect him to leave before nightfall.

When he doesn't respond, I turn I see that Steve is sitting rod straight in the chair with a stricken look on his face. “Seventeen,” he mumbles.

“What?”

He turns to look me straight in the eye. “Seventeen. That's one of your trigger words, isn't it?”

The word makes me nauseous. Like I'm small and helpless. That I can't make a sound. Maybe someone else shouldn't be saying those words even if it is in English. I sit on the sofa before my knees buckle.

“Buck. Sweetheart,” he says as he comes over to kneel in front of me. “I'm so sorry. I...I shouldn't have done that.”

“Shut up!” I scream childishly, but it's too late. The memory of the Christmas of '34, a memory I buried so deeply that only the trigger word could bring it forth, has already started to unspool. “No. No. I don't want this.”

Steve wouldn't stop, even when I said no. He just kept touching me with his hands, with his mouth and all I could do was whisper, “No. Steve we can't do this. My parents are in the next room.” Worse yet, my baby sister was sleeping in her bed on the other side of the room. I was so nervous, unable to relax, but once he started working me with his mouth and fingers all I wanted was more. It hurt as much as the first time because he was rushed. That was my fault, wanting to get it over with fast so as not be discovered. Afterwards I remember wanting to cry, to be as far away from him as I could get. Once he was asleep, I tried to sleep on the couch cushions by my bedside and by morning had rationalized that it was OK because Steve loved me. I don't remember him telling me that though.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Steve repeats as he holds me as I sob into his shoulder. “You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve any of it.”

He starts to pull away as the sobs subside but I continue to cling to him. “It's Ok, Stevie. I forgive you,” I say into his shirt. It's what I would have said if he'd apologized all those years ago.

“No, Buck,” he says firmly as pulls away. “I don't deserve your forgiveness. There is no forgiving what I did that night.”

“We were kids” I say puzzled. “And I seem to recall that we kept doing it, and that I liked it. A lot.”

“But not always, huh?” he replies, pushing my hair from my face. “You're not the only one who's changed. The past two years have given me a lot of time to think. To remember our relationship for what it was instead of the fantasy I built up in my mind. I know I pressured you into sex from the very beginning and I need to know...was that something you really wanted? Or did you just feel sorry for me because I was so small and sickly?”

I'm stunned. I thought he knew. “Steve, on the hellicarrier...when you were trying to reach me...you told me I'd known you my whole life. The truth is, I've loved you my whole life.”

“I don't deserve you. I never have,” he says into my ear as he pulls me closer. “But I'm going to work every day to prove I'm someone who does. That is if you'll still have me.”

“I love you, Stevie,” I say with a smile. “But it's a little early to make any promises, OK? I still have a lot of work to do and I'm not even sure who I'll be when its done—if it's ever done. You're not mad are you?”

“No, Buck,” he says as he gets up. “I'm not.”

“You're not?” Before he'd stay quiet, but there would be no missing his disappointment.

“I'll never be mad at you for being honest with me. I want you to tell me no,” he smiles. “I want you put me in my place when I'm being a pompous ass.”

He walks out of the room and into the kitchen. When he returns he's carrying the box of chocolates and a large Sat-phone.

“Here, jerk,” he says as he throws the box at me. “Merry Christmas. And since were being honest, Buck. I love you. Even if it takes another 50 years to prove it...I'll love you til...”

“Don't say it, you big dork,” I say as I pop a chocolate into my mouth. “I'd forgotten how sappy you were.”

“Oh, I'm the sap?” he replies. “You're the who said it first.”

“I did?” Steve goes into the other room and I hear him on the phone. He tells someone that he's staying here with me. He tells them I'm the love of his life and, whatever it takes, he'll never lose me again. “I'll love you til the end of the line too, Stevie.

 I pick out another chocolate and pop it in my mouth. There's that feeling, gurgling deep in my chest. 

The End

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always figured Bucky/The Winter Soldier should be more angry about what has happened to him. We don't see much of this in the MCU except for the during the fight on the hellicarrier when he's starting to remember who he is and the fight with Tony in Siberia because Tony's beating up on Steve. Bucky seems to be the angry one, while when The Winter Soldier has an emotion it appears to be anxiety, if not fear. 
> 
> This is the conclusions of The Ghost's of Christmas' Past series. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and given kudos.The last part didn't come out quite as I expected and it was quite a fight to give Steve and Bucky, if not a happy ending, a hopeful one. I don't think I'm done with this storyline yet so we'll see what happens in the New Year.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of want to see what happens at Clint's Family Christmas. Will Sam's Mom like Natasha? Will Sam get a piece of pecan pie? What did Steve get the kids for Christmas?
> 
> In my head canon, Sam and Natasha are getting close while on the missions with Steve. **Spoiler Alert for Infinity War**That's why Sam says the meeting with Bruce is "awkward".


End file.
